The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows on the faces of my growing company. We had made camp for the night on the road to Ashford. The day's travel had been long, but the mood was light, filled with the quiet satisfaction of a difficult journey underway.
From the other side of the camp, I could hear the low murmur of the boys' voices. Alaric was holding court, his tone boasting. I caught snippets of conversation about the girls back in Summer Village. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. The boys were young, their hormones running high, and the close quarters of the village had led to more than a few budding romances. I could only hope they were being careful; the last thing we needed was a child on this already perilous journey.
My thoughts were interrupted as Ava sat beside me, offering a waterskin. "A copper for your thoughts, Ser Julius?" she asked, her voice soft against the night sounds.
"I was just thinking about the weight of all these lives," I admitted, accepting the water. "It's one thing to save them from plague and starvation. It's another to guide them safely across kingdoms."
"You've given them more than safety," she said, her gaze sweeping over the camp. "You've given them a purpose. A future. That is a heavier burden, but a far greater gift."
Her words were a balm. In the months since we'd met, Ava had become more than a healer; she was a trusted confidante, her strength and compassion a cornerstone of this endeavor. Our bond was one of deep respect and shared responsibility, a partnership forged in necessity and hardened by shared trials.
The next morning, we resumed our travel and finally reached Ashford. The market town was a bustle of activity, a welcome sight after our time in the isolated wilderness. Our first task was to acquire clothing for nearly a hundred people. Buying simple, sturdy tunics and dresses was straightforward, but we could not find enough quality gambesons for my fledgling fighters. That purchase would have to wait for King's Landing.
Next, we sought a horse trader. The man, a local businessman with a sharp eye for a deal, showed us his stock. I bypassed the finer destriers and rounseys, instead purchasing forty sturdy garrons. They were cheap, hardy, and well-suited to the varied terrain we would face. The trader agreed to have them delivered to a point closer to our final rendezvous.
We returned to Summer Village and began the final preparations for the great migration. To move a hundred people across the Reach without drawing the wrong kind of attention, we had to be clever. I split our group into three smaller parties.
The first group was led by Alban, assisted by Rick, Claw, and Alfy. They would take twelve of our best fighters and fifteen non-combatants. The second group was under Alaric's command, with Morty, Colt, and Hale as his lieutenants, mirroring his brother's numbers. The third and largest group was my responsibility. I would travel with Old Durran, Ava, and the thirty-seven youngest children and teenagers. We were the most vulnerable and would follow the safest, most discreet route. The plan was set. We would travel separately, converging only when we reached the Crownlands.
Weeks later, my group arrived in Tumbleton. I looked into my coin purse, the reality of our finances settling in. I had arrived in Westeros with 380 gold dragons. Now, after buying food, supplies, and horses for a small army of orphans, I was down to a little over a hundred. The sum was staggering, but as I looked at the faces of the children resting safely within the town's walls, I felt no regret. A man should not find pride in killing, but there was honor in saving a life. We had saved nearly a hundred.
We secured lodgings, a necessary luxury after so long camping. The solid walls and proper beds were a profound comfort to the weary children. As I ensured everyone was settled, a strange sense of duty pulled at me. This town was a link in the chain of our journey, a place where the path had been set. My work here was not yet done. There were people relying on the man I was becoming, and I would not fail them.